


Anger Management

by ArchangelRoman



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1D Fanfic, Harry Styles - Freeform, Jealous!Harry, M/M, Malik - Freeform, Road Head, Styles - Freeform, Zayn Malik - Freeform, harry - Freeform, one direction - Freeform, zayn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 14:52:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelRoman/pseuds/ArchangelRoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is mad. Zayn calms him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anger Management

Zayn is hot, there’s no denying it. He is hit on everywhere he goes; class, swimming practice, pool bars, and parties—especially at parties.

The thing is: Harry knows he can’t really blame Zayn. It’s not his boyfriend’s fault that he is so damn attractive. He can, however, get mad when some bottle blond prick with terrible split-ends walks up to Zayn at a party and gropes him like Harry isn’t even standing there! He’s _right there_ , holding Zayn’s hand! What the fuck!?

And maybe that’s why Harry and Zayn were in the car now, Harry silently fuming and Zayn coming down from his buzzed state.

Zayn sighs, breaking the silence, “He was drunk, Harry.”

“Yeah,” Harry rolls his eyes, “that makes it okay.”

“He didn’t even know who I was. He called me his boyfriend for Christ’s Sake!” Zayn turned towards Harry, willing him to get it through his thick head.

“It’s not the fact that he touched you that bothered me, it’s the fact that you didn’t even care!” Harry explains.

“Of course I cared, Harry, some stranger was groping me,” Zayn didn’t even realize his voice was getting higher. “But what did you want me to do? Punch him in the face? He didn’t even know who I was. He called me his boyfriend for Christ’s sake!”

Zayn shakes his head then looks out of the window. To him it wasn’t that big of a deal, but to Harry? He hadn’t even given it a thought that maybe that guy wasn’t in his right mind and that maybe, just maybe, it was a complete accident. Yeah, Zayn knew he was good looking, but he wasn’t so arrogant as to think that everyone wanted him.

A pregnant silence weighed down the car as they both get lost in their thoughts.

Suddenly Zayn smiled, “I’m sorry, Harry. Forgive me?”

Harry looked towards Zayn, peeking from the corner of his eye. Without saying anything, he turns his attention towards the road and keeps it locked there.

Lifting his hand, Zayn began stroking the back of Harry’s head, pulling on that curl at the start of Harry’s neck, the one that always turns Harry on no matter what.

Harry tried not to react, really he did, but Zayn’s hands were just so warm and he kept tugging on _that_ curl! “’S not fair,” Harry complains, voice all breathy.

Zayn smirks. Then he tugs harder.

Harry shivers, closing his eyes.  The car swerves, snapping him back to attention, “Zayn, stop!”

“Pull over,” Zayn demands.

“No,” Harry counters.

“Harry.”

Harry fights a smile, “Zayn?”

“Pull the car over,” Zayn says, punctuating each word with a period.

“No—,” Harry groans, spreading his legs slightly as Zayn gives a sharp tug on his curl, “—oohhh. Fuck, Zayn! Are you trying to kill us!?”

“Pull the car over,” Zayn demands, a smug smile on his face. He’s got this one in the bag, and he knew it.

Harry complies, pulling the car over to park it in the shoulder of the freeway. It was late at night (or early morning?), so there weren’t too many cars passing by. Before he’s even turned the car off car, Harry’s chair was pushed back and he was attacked by a graceful flail of limbs and dark hair.

Zayn, now straddling Harry’s lap, tugs sharply on Harry’s favorite curl, biting his neck when Harry arches his back. When he’s sucked in a nice, big, red mark on Harry’s neck, he pulls back. “Do you know how unbelievable you are?”

Breathless, Harry tries to respond. His reply is morphed into a groan when Zayn tugs at his nipple.

“I’m talking,” Zayn says, releasing his nipple. “You are also almost unbelievably overbearing, over protective, and unnecessarily jealous! But I want you, okay!? I don’t want that guy at the party or any other guy that hits on me. Get that through your thick skull!”

Harry swallowed, avoiding Zayn’s piercing gaze. “I know, Zayn, really. It’s just...”

Gently, Zayn guides Harry’s face so that they are looking into one another’s eyes. Zayn prompts, “Just what?”

“I don’t deserve you,” Harry says, cheeks tinting pink.

Brows furrowed in confusion, Zayn questions, “What?”

“You’re a straight A student," Harry begins explaining, "captain of the University’s swim team, insanely hot, and I don’t see why you want me. You know, besides the fact that I eat ice cream as though it could be an aphrodisiac.” Harry shakes his head, looking down again. “So yeah, I’m insecure, but compared to you can you blame me?”

Zayn frowns. Did Harry really not see that he didn’t care about that stuff? “Well if that bothers you so much, why are we together?”

Harry shrugs, “’Cause I give fantastic blow jobs?”

Shaking his head, a small smile tugging at Zayn’s lip, he explains, “You’re funny, energetic, have great sense of humor, you’re great with work and with kids, and you’ve got the best, most erotic hair ever. You’re also kind, caring, and giving, especially giving. Like the best blowjobs ever.” Zayn smiles while running his hand through his favorite curls, which would in fact be all of them.

Harry looks up, a shy smile that Zayn’s never seen before, “Really? The most erotic hair ever, you say?”

“Without a doubt,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes and smiling fondly. “So could you quit being a dick?”

“Blow me,” Harry says, pushing Zayn off his lap and into his own seat.

Zayn doesn’t resist and goes back to his own chair, “Maybe later.”

“Don’t tease me,” Harry warns as he starts the car once more and pulls out onto the road.

“Who says it’s a tease?” Zayn winks, grabbing Harry’s free hand and kissing it before letting it rest between them.

Harry grins now; mood flipped a full three-sixty. His fingers tighten, holding Zayn’s hands tighter and he steps on the gas a little bit harder.

“What’s the rush?” Zayn asks, staring out the window again.

“I sort of had this fantasy, you see.” And Harry’s smirking now, devilish plans forming in his mind.

“And you can’t wait to get home?” Zayn guesses.

“Um, yes, actually, I can wait. The fantasy involves the open road, my boyfriend, and” he pauses, “my penis.”

Zayn’s eyes widen, catching on in an instant. “You want me to give you road head?”

“Well, listen, hear me out, yeah? If you do this for me, I’ll do something for you,” Harry explains, “like not tease you in public and make you walk out with an erection. Plus I’ll be in an up mood for days and—Whoa!”

The car swerves as Zayn leans over the armrest to unzip Harry’s jeans. “If I do this, then it means no more ice cream parlors for you. Agreed?”

Harry nods, eyes wide, caught between watching Zayn’s lips descend around his cock and the road.

\--

Fifteen minutes later and they didn’t crash. But Harry did veer into the other lane.

The opposite driver was pissed.


End file.
